


Iron Blind

by Artemis_Crimson



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Gore, I can literally not stress how self indulgently violent this is, It's literally all fight scenes, Monarchomachy more so but it's close, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 15:13:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23713465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Crimson/pseuds/Artemis_Crimson
Summary: In which there's only IMMINENT COMBAT
Kudos: 2





	1. Ikora

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I only want to write asskicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ikora/Adam or Ikora vs Adam? foole it's both (And thanks to Cae for both this tweetfic prompt and the idea for the fic as a whole!)

Ikora has been reigning crucible champion for centuries, undisputed. There’s no one living, legend or dead better at guardian on guardian combat. She loves it, it’s like a home here but normally people take time to lick their wounded egos before asking her for a rematch. Then one day Adamantine’s idea of cheering her up is to play endless 1v1’s.

She doesn’t win once and Ikora doesn’t quite understand how she stands it until a lucky shotgun blast rips her in half. An exo is just sturdy enough survive a moment like this. Adamantine spends it staring up at her with dark eyes and it all makes sense.  
She’s about ready to throw her nova bomb again, so Ikora thinks she’ll allow her one more try before calling the match and pulling her somewhere Shaxx can’t see.


	2. Drifter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also thanks to Cae for the hilarious fuckin image of dark age Adamantine doing well, That in her cryptid days

She’s been 90% sure that the Drifter favoured the void, and the crunch of inhuman cold teeth shredding through the metal of her operculum sharp as atoms confirms. She swears at the bastard, aiming to bash his head in and he’s quick to rip his mouthful off, purple void, human blood and silicone oil splatter them both in the retreat. Fucker doesn’t swallow, the razor edge of the metal would have sliced his throat well enough to shut him up a moment but the indignity might not have been worth it.  
Adamantine changes her judgement when he sneers up and blinks back a step, dodging another.

He wants to quip, but truth be told he’s not used to relying on speed alone to outmatch an opponent. Might not be the fastest guardian around, hell neither of them where anything spectacular in that measure. She cornered him against a wall again, when she’d gone to slug him in the gut he managed to blink through the blow, and the wall looks like a mortar hit. He gets a kick into her knee that does exactly nothing without light to back up his force. Even your run of the mill mortal Exo hit hard enough you think twice before trying to fistfight that. She’d have been a nasty piece of work in her first life, bigger than some fallen captains he’s seen. The hero is a warlock through and through, pity for her they don’t explore light the same way anymore. Better for him her kit is bog-standard. She hits hard enough to give Shaxx a run for his money as is, and if she catches him once, or twice if he's lucky it will be over. The only thing is his favour is just that. First she needs to catch him.

Adamantine lumbers, her stride long enough to hide the deficiency. It doesn’t do to underestimate lightless. Everyone is a threat. She’s heavy, sturdily built and humanoid hands are hard pressed to hurt her. Drifter swaps to the offensive again, shoulder charging her and cracking them against the wreckage of a thresher. He thinks he’s won something, must have because he doesn’t retreat like would be smart. Doesn’t wait for a new twist of light to grow and evade her until then. Maybe he thinks that since cheap cabal armour dents under her shoulders she’s stunned. He goes for an antennae, wrenching it off. Adamantine lets him have it, knees him the the sternum hard enough they both crunch and grabs him by the neck. It’s a fight to the first death, she waits a second for the falsehood of fairness’ sake before sinking fingers through skin and muscle for a better grip on his torso, tearing his body off his head. She suppresses the instinct to pulp the skull and tosses both it and the corpse in a messy heap for his Ghost. Spectre comes out to fuss at her while his sorry thing works up the light for a rez. She wonders what went wrong.

The prelude is this;  
Adamantine had worn a helmet during all their meetings up to this point, she just kept it on for field work but the Drifter kept running into her after that before she bothered to take it off. Even when they’d worked together and made a gun it stayed on. Malfeasance she didn’t truly trust but it was getting weird to have shaded her face this long. So one sunny day on the derelict she transmats in early for a prime match like a fool and tries to offer a shaky sign of it. He’d sworn loudly and slammed the activation on the beacon, tackling her into the arena. Drifter was short on motes, hadn’t released the captured cabal into this Nessus arena and none wander here willingly. There’s nothing to hide behind but the two captains and knight he barely manages to crush into existence just in time for her sword to chew them up and she spits them out. Drifter cracks five rifle rounds at a pace aiming to impress. She shrugs the impact off in a violet blink to close the gap. He’s slippery, dodged too easily beneath soft hands meant to still, to pause an ask what’s wrong. Adamantine rotates her shoulder popping the errant bullet out of the sealing metal. She’ll ask him when he revives.

Adamantine kicks the corpse face up right as his breath is finally restored. “You want to say what that was all about, or do I need to put you down before we have a civil conversation again.”

He wipes the smear of blood from his nose and spits out a mouthful of teeth, baring his freshly grown set in a grimace.  
“You crazy fuckin- you stole my liver!”  
Adamantine stares blankly down at him, and his wildly featuring pointed finger.  
“Dark ages! EDZ! You popped out of nowhere like a goddamn ghoul! There was a minor accident, I was waiting for a rez, you found a human body just lying there so what do you do you freaky fuckin' exo cannibal? You eat my damn liver!”


	3. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tweetfic for Cryptidcae!

They’re on vacation. So, naturally they’re playing a game of predator, prey, and prize with each other’s lives.  
Chrys rushes through the woods up shale speckled cliff-side silently, heart pounding in her ears. Adamantine is the runner today, equipment taken and Light hidden. The thing she’ll hunt and catch. Chrys tracks her up where the air grows thin and finally she catches sight of her stretched out like a gift on a boulder. She’s naked, sharp silver ribs splayed open, twiddling a long loose wire dripping from her wrist in her fingers, staring right at Chrys with a bright violet grin.  
“Come to catch me? Take me, down and have your wicked wicked way?”

It’s obviously a trick, Adamantine isn’t subtle bait, but the stakes are low, the reward will work out in her favour no matter if she evades it or not. Chrys can’t resist seeing what will happen and lunges in with her knife drawn, trying to offline her before she can make a move. Adamantine’s laugh almost drowns out the sparkling whine of the wire and her exposed reactor meeting and then everything is lost in the blast.


	4. Pretty fly for a sword bi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gambit match! farewell regular gambit a tribute to you in this NANOHELL

Adamantine bounces on her heels while her hunter slides to the bank with a fistful of motes. Fifteen shards shards of shining dark tip the portal open and she dives through just as the invasion alarm blares. She hits the ground running and would whoop delight for this particular warren on Nessus’ being so open.

The Drifter calls to embrace the dark but it burns the same to her, same as the sun the storm and the hunger. Three fall at once to her nova, the bone around her skull feeding death back inside, like oil warmed wires slide perfect under her wrists. The fourth is tricky, quick. Adamantine can taste the warm fear of his light, all movement and motivation. She wastes the time it takes for the others to rise again hunting them down through the arena, red foliage crushed to bloody pulp in her steady pursuit. In the end her forth kill isn’t the runner, it’s one of her original victims, they’d popped back up and, instead of hiding out of the way one of them had the runner lead her into an ambush. She puts on an extra burst of speed, the pull back winding like a cyclone about her.

When she skids round the corner three machine gun slugs tear into her body. One right away and two in the second it takes to swing her sword off her back and bury it wrong side down in his skull. The gun drops from his hands. Her heavy ammo was too low to power the usual disintegration, he just dangles from the height at which she prefers to hold her blade.  
She’s pulled back with a meaty thunk, her team had called the primeval up while she fought. Adamantine shakes plastic and meninges off her blade and dances to the central plaza. A new heavy brick should be up, her team glows in glory and she’ll steal the remnant power and take the killing blow.


End file.
